


If I Lay Here

by Dragons_Heart



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Victor Nikiforov, Post-Canon, Victor Nikiforov has a bad day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29184120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragons_Heart/pseuds/Dragons_Heart
Summary: For the first time since becoming Yuuri’s coach, Victor has a bad day. Upset, depressed, and unable to get out of bed, he fears how Yuuri will react when he sees he isn’t okay.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 187





	If I Lay Here

**Author's Note:**

> Also known as the self indulgent and self projecting fic no one asked for.

Victor had prided himself on not having a bad day since he’d been with Yuuri. He’d had his moments, sure, but he hadn’t been bad.

There had been times where he’d felt tired for no reason, days when he didn’t feel like eating, moments when a wave of sadness would wash over him. But he’d been able to power through. They didn’t last long; Yuuri’s smile or Yuuri’s laugh or just Yuuri’s presence had washed them away. Yuuri made him happy, happier than he’d ever been.

Yuuri was his love and life. Yuuri was everything he ever wanted, wrapped up in a human katsudon shell. He was perfectly imperfect, or maybe imperfectly perfect. It didn’t matter. He knew in his heart that he was made for Yuuri, and Yuuri for him.

He also knew it was irrational to think all of his problems would disappear just because he had someone he wanted to spend his life with. He knew it was irrational to think Yuuri would never notice. That didn’t stop him from believing it, though. It didn’t stop him from trying to keep it to himself.

He’d been handling it on his own for years, now. The ice kept it away, usually. When he was younger, it was cathartic. A day of practice on the ice was a good day. That’s how he’d seen it when he was a teenager. Even off-ice training, as grueling as it was, wasn’t bad for him. If he couldn’t skate, that’s what he’d turned to when the demons in his head showed their ugly faces.

The older he got, the less his career helped. Jumps became less satisfying to land, because where’s the joy when you succeed every time. The medals became as routine as his morning coffee. Sometimes he wanted to lose, just for something different, but he knew he’d be disappointed in himself if he didn’t do his best. Programs grew harder to create, his inspiration waning. He wasn’t satisfied with winning or the crowds’ cheers anymore.

The aria to Stammi Vicino had been his last ditch effort to feel  _ something _ on the ice again. It had started as a desperate plea for his love for the sport to mean something again. He hadn’t expected a drunk Japanese man to stumble and dance his way into his life, changing the meaning of the program and everything else for him.

Yuuri was everything he was missing in his life. He could handle a sleepless night or a lack of appetite every now and then so long as Yuuri was at his side. During those months in Hasetsu, he’d felt alive for the first time in years. For the first time in a long time, he could say he was happy and okay and getting better.

Until he wasn’t.

Until now.

It was Saturday, early June. They were deep in the off season and had been taking more time off than normal (maybe more than they should). They deserved it. Victor had made his come-back perfect for the fans, scooping up gold at Russian Nationals and Euros. Yuuri had followed up his GPF silver with redemption at Japanese Nationals. The gold secured him with his spot at Four Continents and Worlds, and he earned another gold at the former. Worlds saw them both with a medal each, gold for Yuuri and Victor’s first silver in over five years. Their scores had been close, Yuuri taking first by less than half a point.

Victor woke to the sun pouring into their bedroom. He was normally a morning person, but he could feel the weight that sat in his gut and chest. He hated waking up feeling mentally drained already. He rolled closer to Yuuri, tugging the still-sleeping smaller man to his chest. He’d learned that if he woke up numb and weighed down, he could just cuddle Yuuri and go back to sleep for a while and it would pass.

But it didn’t.

Sleep didn’t come, even if he felt exhausted still. He didn’t know how long he laid there before he felt Yuuri start stirring. He decided to pretend to be asleep while Yuuri woke up. He needed this to pass before he did anything with his fiancé.

Yuuri snuggled against his chest, and Victor heard him yawn. Yuuri stayed still for a moment before he gently began pulling out of Victor’s arms. Victor let him, and rolled towards Yuuri’s spot once he was up; he knew it was something he did because Yuuri teased him about it. The Japanese skater chuckled quietly and pressed a kiss to Victor’s temple while running his fingers through silver hair.

“C’mon, Makka,” he heard Yuuri whisper. Makkachin stirred at the foot of the bed, then jumped down and shook, causing his tags to jingle. The sets of human and dog footsteps moved from the rug under the bed to the hardwood floor, then out the door until they faded down the hall.

With a heavy sigh, Victor rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He needed to snap out of this. He didn’t want Yuuri to see this broken side of him. Yuuri had so much to worry about on his own. Victor didn’t want to burden him with the bleakness that could overtake him.

He would gladly take Yuuri’s anxiety, but he  _ refused _ to let his depression touch Yuuri.

He lifted his hands up to press the heels of his hands against his eyes.  _ Move. Get up, _ he told himself, but his body wouldn’t listen. He was being crushed by the lead weight being put on him by the depths of his mind.

_ I just need a shower, then I’ll feel better. _

But he still didn’t move to get up. There wasn’t enough energy in his body, even though he’d slept great. Any other day, he wouldn’t feel bad about being a little extra tired. Any other day, he’d at least be able to gain energy after a moment of rest.

He had to realize that it wasn’t going to happen today. That didn’t mean he had to  _ like _ it.

If he stayed in bed, the dark storm he could feel brewing in the back of his mind would overtake him. If it did, he would never move. He’d be a lump. He hated being a lump.

More than that, if he stayed in bed, Yuuri would come to get him up. He’d see just how much of a mess Victor was. He’d realize he’s not the happy-go-lucky man he knows. He’d realize he’s broken and realize that he deserves better and that Victor isn’t worthy of him and he’ll move on and—

“ _ Blyat, _ ” he hissed. He moved his arms, just enough so one was draped over his face and the other across his chest. His breath shook when he inhaled and his chest felt tight. Hot tears slid onto his cheeks, and he hated the feeling of them. He put everything he had into putting the intrusive thoughts down, but it wasn’t enough. The storm raged inside his head and shoved knives into his heart.

He didn’t  _ want _ this, he didn’t  _ ask _ for this.

He heard the tapping of claws from the living room, followed by the front door opening and closing, then silence. Yuuri was probably taking Makkachin for a quick walk. Which meant Victor had an hour tops to pull himself together.

The next breath he took shook, and it  _ hurt. _ His chest was too tight, his lungs could barely expand enough to get air in. His heart  _ ached _ . It made the tears fall faster, which just made him gasp more and his chest hurt more, and that made him hate himself more.

He hated every second of this.

He should be able to handle this better. He shouldn’t  _ be _ like this. He should be happy. He should have this under control. He’d  _ had _ this under control. He’d been  _ better _ .

Why? Why now? Why today?

Victor decided to let the tears fall. Crying was supposed to be good for you, and it wasn’t like he could force them to stop coming now. If he cried, maybe he’d feel better enough to get up and be functional. Or, at least functional enough that he could smile through a lazy day at home. He was sure Yuuri wouldn’t protest to a day of movies or relaxation. Maybe he could try teaching Victor how to play Overwatch. Again.

Still, he didn’t make a sound other than a few, soft hiccups and his gasping breaths. He mastered the technique of the silent cry years ago, having never wanted to be heard in the locker room or the school bathroom. Even alone, he preferred it. He didn’t even want Makkachin to hear him, even if his best friend knew and curled against him.

He really wished he was here right now. He could use a good cuddle right now.

Eventually, his tears ran dry, and Victor laid still while his breathing slowly regulated itself. He rolled to the side, grabbing a tissue from the box on the bedside table so he could blow his nose. Once done, he rolled back onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

He didn’t feel better.

He wouldn’t say he felt worse. But he didn’t feel better.

So, he laid in silence. A silence so deafening he could hear his blood moving in his ears and the occasional bird chirp from outside and the quiet moan of the air conditioner as it kicked on. And it was  _ loud _ . Victor covered his ears, even though it wouldn’t do any good, and closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the bright white of the ceiling. It was all barely anything, but it was still too much.

Several minutes passed, and Victor found himself counting his too loud heart beats until he grew annoyed with it. He huffed and rolled to his side, pulling the sheets and blanket up over his head. Finally, he was able to relax a little. The ambient noise was shut out, the light was dimmed, and he was warm. He still didn’t feel anything besides numbness or pain, but it was somewhat better.

The front door opened and shut again, and Makkachin’s claws clacked on the floor. Victor could hear the muffled sounds of food being poured into the poodle’s bowl in the kitchen. He curled in on himself and clutched the top of the covers in his fingers.

_ Please don’t come in, Yuuri. Please leave me alone. Please just fix some breakfast for yourself. Please— _

His thoughts were broken as the sound of feet shuffling drew near. The mattress sank down with new weight. A hand laid on Victor’s shoulder and squeezed gently.

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmured. His tone was sweet as honey, and slightly amused. “You need to get up, sleepyhead.”

Victor didn’t move. He couldn’t. If he did, Yuuri would know he was awake. If Yuuri knew he was awake, he’d try to make him get up and then he’d see the state Victor was in and he’d get worried or upset and he’d realize the mess he was and—

The blanket over Victor’s head started to move. He tightened his grip on it and tucked his head under his arms. He even went so far as to close his eyes, just in case.

“Vitya, come on. Get up before it gets too late.”

Victor shook his head, not knowing or caring if Yuuri could tell he had moved at all, and kept his grip firm on the covers.

“Come on. I’ll make breakfast for you.”

“Not hungry,” Victor mumbled, cringing at how dead his voice sounded.

“You’re not hungry? You feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.”

The bed shifted and there was silence for a minute. A warm hand found Victor’s bare side and he jumped. His eyes flew open to meet Yuuri’s, filled with worry and concern behind his glasses.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “What’s going on, Victor?”

“Nothing.”

“Victor…”

“I’m just tired.”

Yuuri sighed softly and closed his eyes. Victor took the opportunity to look away. He cast his eyes to the side, staring down at the space where this pillow met the mattress. Yuuri was irritated with him, he could tell. He was irritated and probably disappointed.

The bed shifted again, and Victor felt Yuuri’s legs brush his. His fiancé’s t-shirt tickled his stomach. Yuuri’s fingers moved between his elbows and stroked the side of his face.

“Vitya, look at me.”

Victor lifted his eyes to meet Yuuri’s again. The eyes he loved so much were still worried, but we’re also soft and warm and kind.

“Thank you. Now bring your arms down for me. That can’t be comfortable, and I can’t see you very well.”

Victor’s teeth gnawed at his bottom lip for a moment, and he didn’t move. But then, he released his grip on the covers and let his arms come down from his head. One went around Yuuri’s shoulders, and the other over his waist, if anything because he didn’t know where else to put them. But, it made Yuuri smile and that smile made Victor’s heart do a flip. A small, barely noticeable flip, but a flip nonetheless.

“Good,” Yuuri whispered. “That’s good, Vitya.” He moved his fingers up Victor’s cheek to his forehead, tenderly brushing his hair away from his face. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s not—“

“Don’t tell me there’s nothing,” Yuuri said firmly. “I’ve watched you for years. I’ve known you for over a year, and we’ve been together for almost that long now. I think I can tell when something isn’t right with you by now.”

Victor didn’t have a good response for that, so he stayed silent. Yuuri was right, and he knew it. But it didn’t mean that he liked it either. He definitely didn’t like it.

“How much do you know?” Victor finally asked. His eyes were fixed on Yuuri’s as the younger man slid his fingers back through his silver hair, massaging his scalp before repeating the motion. It helped him relax. Unfortunately, that brought back the crushing sadness he felt, but it wasn’t overwhelming him again yet.

Yuuri shrugged. “Not as much as you probably think I do,” he said. “You don’t really talk about your problems that much. I mean, you tell me if something’s really upsetting you, so it’s not like you don’t talk at all. It’s more that you don’t tell me when you’re in a bad mood. I can pick up on it sometimes, I just didn’t want to push on it. I figured you’d talk to me when you’re ready.

“But right now, I’m wondering if maybe I should have.”

The numbness in Victor’s chest was momentarily replaced by a stab of pain, followed by the ache of shame. His fingers began to grip and twist the back of Yuuri’s t-shirt, probably wrinkling it up. 

_ He’s mad,  _ he thought.  _ He’s mad I didn’t tell him. He thinks I don’t trust him. He won’t want to be around me now that he knows. He’s going to yell at me for not telling him. He— _

“Whoa, Victor, hey. Come back to me.”

He realized he’d started crying again when Yuuri’s thumb swiped over his cheek. He sniffled a few times, Yuuri caressing his cheeks and stroking his hair the whole time. He even shushed him, not saying anything until Victor was able to focus on him completely again.

“Vitya, it’s okay. I promise,” he cooed. “I’m sorry. I’m just blaming myself for not taking care of you like I should have. That I didn’t piece together what was going on until now. I owe you an apology for that.”

“You...you don’t have to,” Victor said between hitching breaths. He hadn’t realized he was shaking until Yuuri squeezed him. “I didn’t tell you. I...I didn’t want you to know. I...I thought…I thought...I thought you…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Yuuri said. “Not right now. I get it. I’ve dealt with anxiety my entire life, you know that. I know how unkind our minds can be to us.”

Victor nodded. Of course. And he knew that. He knew he never should have been afraid to tell Yuuri...logically. It didn’t mean he believed the logic, though, or that the fear of being seen as broken superseded everything.

“I want you to talk to me about this,” Yuuri continued. “And we don’t have to get into all of it right now. I’m sure you don’t want to, right?”

“Not really…”

“So that’s a conversation for another time. But promise me you’ll tell me when you’re feeling bad, okay? We’re not married yet, but I still promise to be here for you, for better or for worse. I want to take care of you, like you do me. Can you let me do that?”

Victor stared into Yuuri’s eyes, sniffling as he took him in. All that care and love and concern and sincerity, directed at him. Just for him.

“Yeah…”

“Good.” Yuuri leaned up and pressed his lips to Victor’s forehead. “Do you feel like getting up?”

Victor shook his head. Getting up sounded like the worst possible thing.

“That’s okay. Is it okay if I stay with you?”

“Yeah...please.”

“Okay.”

Yuuri gently pulled away and scooted up so his head was out from under the blankets. He laid on his back, lifting the blanket to smile down at Victor.

“I’m here as long as you need me. I promise.”

Victor felt his bottom lip quiver. Guilt burned in his stomach, but he shoved it down. He’d never wanted anyone during a bad day like he wanted Yuuri right now. He wouldn’t let his mind take that away from him after Yuuri said it was okay.

He crawled up and laid with his head on Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri wrapped his arms around him, stroking his hair again. A few silent tears slid down his cheeks again, and he just turned his head so his face was buried in Yuuri’s shirt.

“You’re going to be okay, Vitenka,” Yuuri whispered. “I promise.”


End file.
